Crossing the meadow where the horses were turned out, Ela whistled and grinned as a white horse came running. It was a gift, as a colt, from a very grateful breeder for saving his daughter’s life. She was assured that this horse was of the blood of the horses of the north, descended from Felaróf himself. She had the papers to prove it, but was not as interested in that fact, as the one that he had beaten every horse put against him in a race. It was rumoured among the men in the lower valleys that the horse was… well, some said cursed, some said blessed by the Valar. Ela just attributed it to good breeding and a valiant heart.

Exchanging greetings with the stable hands, Ela saddled her horse. She had never given him a name. He was just her horse. None ever asked to ride him; nor would they have dared if she had offered. He was gentle with her and tolerant of the handling of the grooms when she was not around. He pranced around the common way in the large barn and settled when she spoke to him.

None understood the words she used. Speculation said it was her mother’s tongue. Who knew? The girl was different, but of a nature that all loved and respected her. The news of her ancestry had long since settled down. She was no longer known as Ereinion Gil-Galad’s granddaughter. Now she was Lady Elrénia, Lord Elrond’s daughter.

Declining the offer of an escort, Ela swung up into the saddle. Checking her seat, she walked the horse out of the barn. When she was clear of the gates, she gave him his head and spoke for his ears alone. Bunching his hindquarters under her, he bolted for the river crossing. Reaching the narrowest part, he gathered himself and jumped the river. Landing gracefully on the other bank, they quickly disappeared into the
woods.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Delandor watched the rider coming in. It was a year now since he had seen him, but there was no mistaking who it was.

“Welcome, Haldir. How was the journey?” He stood by as the Marchwarden dismounted and brushed the dust from his clothes.

“Dry. It seems there has been no rain for weeks. The plains are beginning to suffer.”

“The rivers are down slightly. Otherwise, things are well enough here.”

“Have you heard from your son?” Haldir always asked, but without the rancour that had once coloured the question.

“He is still to the north. I heard that he had settled down, but since he does not write, I have no confirmation of that. And your
brothers?”

“They fare well. Orophin is in his dotage with his new daughter. It seems he found something he did not know he missed. And the girl is fair, and quite obedient.” He looked down the river. Delandor felt he was avoiding any glances towards the other end of the valley.

“You are not expected,” the guard said, not unkindly.

“No, I am not. Nevertheless, I have messages for Lord Elrond. So, it is best I deliver them.” His reluctance was not lost on Delandor who grinned. This would prove to be interesting.

~*~*~

Elrond looked up from his book when Erentil came to the door.

“Lord Elrond, Haldir of Lórien has arrived. Will you see him?”

“Certainly,” Elrond exclaimed, surprised. It had been a year since Celeborn had sent messages. With the growing unease to the east, he hoped that all was well. He stood as the Marchwarden entered the library.

“Lord Elrond,” Haldir greeted him, giving a slight bow.

“Haldir. This is unexpected. Is there anything wrong?”

“No, sir. My Lord wanted you to see some reports that have come his way. He is most concerned about rumours from the southeast. He hopes you may shed some light upon what he has heard.”

“I will see what I can do. Are you here long? Can you stay for supper?”

Elrond was slightly amused by the discomfort playing across HaldirÂ’s face. So, the time had come.

“I will stay the night, if you will allow. My horse needs rest.”

“You are very welcome. Will you stay here, or across the valley?”

“Here will suffice. Now, if you will excuse me, I will see to my horse.” Receiving a nod from Elrond, Haldir turned and went back through the house, heading for the stables below. Descending the stairs outside, he came to the bottom of the hill where his horse waited. Heading towards the stables, he glanced across the wide valley. He could make out the house sitting back among the trees next to the falls. Changing his mind, he mounted and started to the north.

Elestra came out of the house, having seen the rider from the window. She hid a small smile. Seating herself on the swing, she waited for the horse to stop.

“Greetings, Haldir of Lórien.”

He bowed to her. “And to you, Lady Elestra. Felicitations from my Lord and Lady, and from Gariel. She wishes me to convey her envy.”

“It is conveyed. Can I help you?”

“I am looking for Ela. Is she here?”

“Did you look in the village? It is customary that she would be there during the day.”

“No,” he said. “I had hoped she would be here.”

“Well, it is well you did not waste a trip. As it happens, she is riding today. She and another went up to the meadow.”

“Who is the other?” Did Elestra denote a twinge of something in his voice?

“Her cousin. You remember Cabel?”

From the look on his face, he had not forgotten. Ela had gotten over her dislike for her people rather quickly. At least, she had for one of them. It was amazing how fast the friendship had grown between them, once her initial reluctance had worn off.

“I think I will take a walk up to the meadow,” he said, nonchalantly. “May I leave my horse here?”

“Of course. I will have the gardener take him to the stables. You have no need to worry about the horse.” Unfortunately, her tone made him believe he might have something to worry about up in the meadow.

“Thank you,” he said, bowing and turning for the river.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Caught in the midst of the maelstrom created by the wind, the lone rider goaded her mount into greater effort. Reaching a point midway across the valley floor, the rider pulled the horse into a skidding stop. Jumping from the saddle, she threw the reins over the horseÂ’s head and shooed him off. As he turned and ran, the figure ripped the cloak off and tossed it away. The lack of the voluminous cape revealed the frame and curves of a small elleth. Quickly turning back the way she had come, she drew the bow from her back. Breathing deeply, she faced up the valley. Tearing down the meadow on foot, carrying a sword, was an Orc. Ela carefully drew an arrow and fitted it to the bowstring. Drawing it back to its full draw, she let it fly. It veered woefully to the side of the Orc. The girl quickly drew her sword. Throwing down his sword in disgust, the Orc started yelling.

“NO! NO, NO, and NO! Why do you do that?”

She stood still as he approached. Try as she might, she could not suppress the grin that spread across her face. The grin finally erupted into laughter.

“It was closer that time.”

“I have seen you take down a coney at twice that distance. And yet, you cannot hit me?”

“Are you that ready to test the Valar?” she asked. She turned at the nuzzling at her neck. “Hello,” she said to the horse. He blew his nose and looked disdainfully at the creature with his companion.

“What if you are accosted by another Orc? Then what? Have you considered that?” His tone implied he was not done berating her.

“Well, I will just have to charm him, as I did you.” She bent over to pick up the bow she had so unceremoniously tossed earlier.

“You did not charm me. You bewitched me. I truly think you are a witch. You spent too much time with that other one.”

“You mean the Lady?” She continued at his nod. “She taught me much, but she did not teach me to bewitch Orcs. I rather think she would be appalled that I did it. Your kind is not looked on well by others.”

“Hmph,” was his reply.

She looked over at the Orc as he bent to pick up her cloak. He was cleaner than were most men. He had come a long way since the day she had found him in the upper meadows, bleeding to death from a sword wound. After her initial loathing had worn off, the healer in her had taken over. For two days, she had tended him. By then, the damage was done; she had formed a bond. It was no wonder she could not hit him
with her arrows. Moreover, she prayed she would never be put to the test of choosing between him and another. She could no sooner shoot him than Lord Elrond.

“Drakar, you know I do not feel that way,” she said, batting her eyes at him.

“Stop it,” he growled, placing the cloak around her shoulders. “You always resort to those stupid human ways.”

“Well, fine. If you are going to be that way, I am going home. Ada expects me for supper, anyway.” She grabbed the horse’s reins. Swinging up, she looked down on this creature; most feared by all of Arda; this creature she should have left to die.

“You will be careful, will you not?” Her voice carried no laughter now.

“Your concern is wasted on me,” he growled. “Go back to your safe life and do not worry for me.”

“But, I will,” she laughed. Turning the horse around, she waved as she headed back down the valley. He could hear her laughter until she reached the woods at the lower end.

Shaking his head, he started back up to the heights. Whatever had possessed her to befriend him, an Orc; a misshapen elf; a tortured soul? He could admit to not a little confusion. From the time he had awoken from his stupor, she had fascinated him. There was no going back. He could never climb back down that ladder into the chaos of his earlier life. He had learned contentment at being on his own. She was taming the created beast in him. She had already done much. And for what? What did she mean to gain from all of this?

He had taken a chance and crept down to the lower heights once. Following her progress down to the vast valley where she lived, he had come as close as he dared to her home. Did she not realize what she risked by association with him? What if her father found out? He knew who Lord Elrond was. He knew the stories of his past deeds, of the wars and battles he had fought. More importantly, he knew about the rulerÂ’s lady, what had been done to her. He had had nothing to do with it, but how did the girl suppose he would feel about her befriending an Orc? He had taken her in and given her everything; a name; a family; a home. If he found out that she was friends with one of the despised race, it would not bode well for her. Strangely, he found he cared enough to be bothered by that. What had the cursed girl done to him?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ela rode in easy solitude. She was not watching where the horse was going. She was instead thinking on her birthday party five years ago. It had been beautiful. Her brothers could not make it, but Arwen was visiting her father. The dinner party had been small, but far from quiet. They had celebrated in the back gardens, just her family, closest friends, and the servants. Dalgren was very upset to have strangers in her kitchen, but Ela had insisted that everyone be present for the evening. She smiled thinking back on the dancing and singing that had gone on later. She had been surprised that Haldir had shown up earlier in the morning. It seemed he was there more than usual lately. She would have to think on that.

A flash down the mountain caught her eye. Oh, as if just the thoughtÂ… She dismounted and gave the horse a push to hide. He looked at her and shook his head. Without watching to see where he went, she began creeping down the path.

The man made his way through the dark forest. The light of day but dimly pierced the heavy growth. He slowly crouched down and surveyed the path ahead. He knew what awaited him. It was the always the same: a seemingly easy hunt, only to turn into a trap. Backing slowly into the brush to the side of the trail, he worked around the dense undergrowth. A faint tinkling sound caught his ear. Finally, he had won. Carefully placing his feet so as not to make a sound, he came upon what he sought. Bow drawn and arrow notched, he triumphantly stood to claim his prey. His smile faltered as he saw what had made the noise. A string with a small metal ring hung from a branch. Attached to the ring were tiny metal bells.

“How long are we to play this game?” he asked softly to the empty air.

“Until you win, or forfeit,” came a softer reply.

He glanced around, settling his gaze into the tree above him. Although the body attached to the voice was not visible, the arrow pointed at his head was.

“Come down,” he said.

“Do you forfeit?” was the answer.

“Not to you!” He watched as the small form dropped from the branches above. She brushed herself off and went over to the string hanging down. Retrieving the small gold ring, she placed it in her ear. Shaking her head, he could hear again the soft tinkle that had drawn him into her trap. Turning, she looked up at him.

“You know this is not what I meant when I told you I would find you. Where is your cousin?” he asked, glancing around for Cabel.

“And yet, it is effective. I think the score is now four to zero. You owe me a gold coin.” She stood waiting. “And Cabel rode on home. I only went to the higher reaches with him.”

“It is juvenile to bet on this.” All his intentions to speak to her had fled. He could not discern the subtle difference the game had taken.

“And yet, you continue to do it. Now, unless you would like to up the stakes, give me my coin.”

He frowned as he handed her a coin. She made a big show of checking to ensure it was real, and then stashed it in her pouch.

“Why do you insist on this?” he asked her. She whistled for the horse and turned to face him.

“What would you rather have?” she asked.

“When are you coming home?” he returned, changing the subject.

“I am home,” she said, surprised.

“I mean to Lórien. When will you return?”

“Is there any hurry? I am not finished here.”

“No, I suppose not. Rúmil misses you, as does Gariel and Orophin.” He dropped to the ground under a large oak.

Sitting down beside him, she glanced at his face. “And you do not?”

“I am through playing games with you, Ela. You enjoy them entirely too much.”

“That is what Ada always says. Now, what should our next wager be? Would you give me the fences, should I win and return?”

“That will not happen. You would have to content yourself with the city guards.”

“Will you never tire of saying that? It is getting old.” She turned and sat back against the tree. “Ada does not mind. Lord Celeborn said I might. Even the Lady does not object. Only you. One would think you do not like me.” She glanced up to gauge his reaction.

“I like you as well as any trying, disobedient child.”

“Oh, one misstep and I am branded a fool for life. You gave Meliel permission to go.”

“Yes, well that is because Del whines more than do you.”

“That is no answer,” she complained.

“It is the only one you are getting.”

She sat in silence.

“What if I do not return?”

“Rúmil will be upset, as will Gariel.”

“And you? Will you be upset?”

“Hardly. You are a thorn in my side. I doubt I will even miss you.” His racing heart belied his words.

She turned back to him. She gently laid a hand over his heart; he felt a jolt. Moving quickly from her, he stood up.

“What did you do?” he demanded.

She looked up at him standing there. She should not have done that. However, she had to know. Slowly standing up, she looked up into his eyes.

“What do you fear?” At her soft words, unease settled in his chest. He vaguely remembered a question not unlike this one, asked years ago. She continued, “I am no longer a girl. By either people, I am counted an adult.”

Looking at her, he could not disagree. He found himself drawn into her eyes; those damnable blue eyes. He felt out of control. To his shock, he found himself leaning down closer to her. There was no pulling away on her part. Time stood still for aeons as they came closer. He felt a heat rising from her skin as their lips almost connected.

That is, until a large hairy head nudged between them. The horse nickered to her. She drew back in disgust.

“Sadron? Your name is Sadron?” she exclaimed, raising her arms and slapping them back against her hips. “After all this time, NOW you decide to tell me your name? And this could not have waited until we got home?” She paced furiously. “Do you have any idea how long I have waited for this moment?” She halted abruptly. Horror flooded her face as she realized that he was still standing there, listening to her words. She
turned and stalked away.

Taking the horseÂ’s reins, Haldir gave a slight jerk to show his irritation at the interruption and followed her.

“What do you mean you have waited for this moment?”

She turned to face him, hands on her hip. Her breathing had slowed down and she was not as flushed.

“What do you think I meant? I am as tired of the games as are you. How long do you think I am willing to wait?”

He backed up a step. Her words were spoken softly, but carried steel behind them. Words failed him.

She sighed in exasperation. “Come on. It is late. I promised Ada I would be home for supper.” She motioned him up on the horse.

“Will he take both of us?” Haldir asked. He was not as sure as she was about this. He avoided riding when possible. Moreover, he knew the horse.

“He has no choice. He will do it.” She glared at Sadron who amazingly had the grace to look chastised. He allowed the ellon to mount without any trouble. He shifted his stance slightly as Ela grabbed Haldir’s proffered hand and swung up behind him. “Just let him have his head. He knows where to go. And hold on.”

There was nothing said for quite a way back down the mountain. Ela was silent, trying to figure out if she had pushed things too far, too soon. Haldir was busy thinking about the warmth of her against his back. He remembered little things from the past that had haunted him: the fall in the woods, carrying her back to Caras Galadhon, the lurch when he thought she and Del were dead, a simple act of buttoning a dress, even a dance when her feet had not quite caught up with her grace. He had had all the signs but was just figuring them out. Meanwhile, he concentrated on enjoying the ride.

At the bottom of the faint trail, Sadron picked up his pace. For a half-mile, they travelled at an easy canter through the lower trees. Then came upon an open place where Sadron shot off. Haldir made a frantic effort to regain control.

“Let him go!” he heard shouted from behind him. “He knows what to do!”

Haldir was not so sure, when he saw their goal was the river. Although narrow, he knew it was deep and full of large boulders, and Sadron was heading right for it. Then he lost interest in where they were going. He felt her arms tighten around him and found nothing else mattered. She leaned against him and he instinctually leaned into Sadron as the horse gathered himself and leaped across the river. Landing on
the other bank, Sadron kept running. Haldir could hear the joyous laughter behind him as the horse tore across the meadow. Not even stopping at the gates, but sailing over them, Sadron seemed intent on delivering his riders right into the barn. Ela finally spoke to him and he slowed to a walk. They entered the barn amid the stares of stable hands who knew only too well that no one else rode that horse.

She slid off the back of the horse, landing gracefully. As soon as her companion dismounted, she started undoing the girth and barrel straps. Pulling the saddle from SadronÂ’s back, she hung it on the post beside his stall. Placing the bridle on the hook above the saddle, she grabbed a couple of brushes, tossing one to Haldir. In silence, he brushed down the right side of the horse, lost in his thoughts, listening to her
croon and prattle to the animal. Finishing up, she walked out to the paddock, Sadron following like a puppy.

They stood watching the horse roll in the short grass. As he leaned against the rails of the paddock, Haldir finally understood why he had come. His restlessness was her. She was the reason he was drawn back here.

“Ela,” he said softly.

She looked up at him, a smile lighting her face. She waited. Was it possible, he was at a loss for words? She would have laughed, had he not looked so serious. Laying a hand on his arm, she glanced at her horse.

“I must prepare for dinner,” she said softly. “I will see you later.” Trailing her hand down his arm, she turned and walked away.

Walking along the road, she thought back over the ride down the mountain. Well, she had given him something to dwell on; it would be interesting to know how he fared.